


To Return

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Life After the Almost End of Everything [6]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-04-03 17:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21483172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Crowley decides it's time to visit upstairs, see if things have really changed for the better.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Life After the Almost End of Everything [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550209
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of my previous writing, starting with Don't Forget, so read that first if you haven't already!

They stood in the bookshop, the rug pulled aside, revealing the summoning circle that was carefully etched into the ground. Aziraphale had already lit the candles, and they’d already taken the necessary steps so their corporations wouldn’t be ruined. Didn’t want to spend a hundred or so years on paperwork, after all.  
“Crowley… are you sure, dearest?” Crowley was standing a foot back from the circle, almost frozen in place. He snapped to at Aziraphale’s question, golden eyes focusing once more.   
“no. no, I’m not. But… well, it’s long overdo, I think.” He said softly, staring down at the flickering candles.   
It was ten years since the not apocalypse. Nine since the memory wipe. Eight since Gabriel’s attack. A little over seven since their wedding. He’d had his grace intact for eight years. Eight whole miraculous years.  
It showed. His once raven black wings were now speckled with white. His grace was stronger too, still not enough to come close to evening out the dark in him, but it was stronger, more capable, it filled him more and more each day. Reminding him of everything he’d once been, that he was becoming again. It was rather like being created from scratch, figuring out this new balance that shifted within him every day. It was rather… human feeling, he imagined.  
He didn’t know if he wanted to go back to Heaven. But he wanted to see it again. He wanted to walk it and see it and feel it and just remember. The part of him that was angelic was calling out to above, and it seemed it wouldn’t let him rest until he went.   
He supposed it was curiosity. That had always been his downfall, his failing. Asking questions when he should have stayed silent, acting out when he should have sat still. Well, today was no different. It was time to give them a piece of his mind, for all the centuries of fear and mistreatment they’d heaped upon his angel, if nothing else.   
He felt a hand in his, and smiled smally at Aziraphale, meeting those endless clear blue eyes, skies he wouldn’t mind flying in forever.   
“It’s perfectly fine if you’re not ready. I wouldn’t be.” Crowley shook his head, letting out a low breath, leaning against the angel, his angel. He still thought of himself as a demon, of course. The thought of calling himself an angel was laughable, really, absurd.   
“It’s been over 6000 years. I bloody well ought to be ready.” He huffed, not taking a step despite his words. He felt Aziraphale squeeze his hand.   
“It’s just…” he bit his lip. “Last time I was upstairs I was wearing your face. What they were going to do, love…”   
“It’s alright.”   
“It’s not. No trial, no chance to defend yourself, just Gabriel saying shut the fuck up and die, expecting you to walk into fire and burn. Even in hell we have trials. Because we remember what it was like… what it was like to be accused and not have a chance to speak up, to defend ourselves. It…” He trailed off, raking a hand through his hair.   
They both knew what he was thinking. It was the Fall, all over again. It was not having a say in your own fate, it was questioning the way things were because of love and being utterly destroyed for it.   
“I know, dearest. But things have changed. We, have changed. Gabriel is gone, the rest are demoted, and She is directly in charge again. It’s just like it was, before-“   
“The Fall. Yes. I’m aware.” He smiled wryly, though stress was clear on his face, in the stiffness of his lanky limbs. “She’s got a lot to make up for, love. Let’s see if what She’s been saying is true.” A few steps and they were in the circle.   
He gasped as light flooded through him, blinding him, soaking into every fiber of his being, filling him with empty lightness, pure oblivion. Then his vision resolved and they stood outside those tall, iron gates.   
He closed his eyes against the memories of screams, the memories of blood and fighting and steel clashing. The memory of the uprising that started it all, the battlefield torn and soaked with golden ichor.   
He’d walked those fields, both above and below, afterwards. He’d healed broken limbs, twisted wings, lungs filling with fluid, slashes between breastplates, stabs and scrapes and bruises and cracked ribs piercing hearts, lungs, organs, sweat soaked faces, drawn and pale, experiencing pain, true, agonizing pain, for the first time.   
He’d tried so hard to become numb, to close himself off as he laid hands on angel after angel after angel after angel, tried to block out their faces, their moans, their whimpers, the wheezing of breath, the gurgle of lungs, the feel of death shrouding him as he passed empty bodies that he could do nothing for.   
But he couldn’t. He remembered every face, every plea, every call for help, every desperate keen, the tears blurring his vision until the plain was wet with it, mingling with his sibling’s blood. He’d cried just as hard as he’d walked below, setting pitch black wings, soothing scorched skin, closing and repairing flesh and sinew until his world was made of scars and ash.  
He hadn’t fallen that day. It was in the days after, when fingers were pointed and any small infraction was seen as treason, any step out of line was enough to be cast below, nothing less but cold hard steel was acceptable in an angel. There was no room for sympathy, empathy, to those who had fallen. They were dead as far as Heaven was concerned, unworthy of note, only of scorn.   
That was when he’d fallen. Because he never lost his empathy. Because he saw past all the posturing, all the blame game, all the power struggles and false accusations, none of it mattered, it was all just noise. He’d been made to heal, so he did. He didn’t try to hide it, didn’t lie if asked where he was going, he was not skulking around in the dark like a criminal, he was merely doing his duty, was his response if asked. In his heart it was more. They’d all lost so much, both sides, and if he could fix any of it, repair any of it, help breach that gap however he could, ease any of the suffering, he was going to. They’d all lost enough already.  
It had cost him everything, in the end. He’d known it would, eventually, known that sooner or later their gazes would be cast to him, despite his rank, despite his standing, he’d always been a bit of a black sheep among the archangels. He hadn’t expected to fall, though. Demotion, telling off, scolding, yes. Oddly, he had never regretted his actions. Even knowing, he’d do it all again.   
“Crowley.” The soft voice cut through the screams, brought him back to himself and the present, out of those damned memories. At some point he’d fallen to his knees, wings wrapped around himself like a cocoon. He let out a ragged breath, pulling back his wings with effort, immediately Aziraphale was there, arms wrapped around him, drawing him close and murmuring to him.   
“Not off to a great start, huh, angel?” He asked, voice scratchy, hoarse, as if he’d been shouting. He tasted ash, burnt feathers. Aziraphale pulled back, hands on Crowley’s arms, looking into his face searchingly.   
“You’re alright, though? It wasn’t a reaction to… to this?” Crowley’s brow crinkled in confusion as Aziraphale gestured to their surroundings, then he understood.   
“No, it’s not. I’m fine, I am.” He replied, easing the angel’s worries. He’d thought it was something to do with the demonic still swirling in him, that heaven was having an adverse reaction to his soul. He accepted Aziraphale’s helping hand as he got to his feet. “Memories is all. Didn’t expect it to hit that hard, that soon. Didn’t know I still had those in me.” He finished, realizing he was squeezing Ziri’s hand so hard his knuckles were turning white.   
“Oh. Oh my.” A beat of silence. “Shall we?” Crowley nodded, barely glancing up from the ground, his breath caught in his throat as they approached the gates, as they swung open easily. Swung open for him. He hadn’t known that was something he’d missed until they were through and stepped into heaven.   
He noticed the smell first. The air swirled with it, the soft scent of growing newness, of green shoots poking through wet earth. The smell of the ocean after a summer rain, the smell of flowers ripe and blooming, the smell of sunshine warming stone, the smell of life.  
It hadn’t been like that last time. Last time it was sterile rooms, bright light, disciplined order. All Gabriel, to a T. Now it was… it was almost as he remembered it.   
Flowering plants in miraculous colors, a carpet of lush greenery all across the land, ivy climbing pillars of cathedral like buildings, stained glass reflecting prisms and bursts of color across the ground, moonstone paths leading from building to building. And that soft, almost sun like glow that flowed over everything, made everything a shade brighter, a shade realer than it was on earth.   
And the sky… he couldn’t bear to look up, couldn’t bear to see it, to know if it had changed in his 6000 years away, to see if his work still spiraled across it or if it had been erased, painted over like he didn’t exist.   
It lit something inside him he hadn’t known he still had, something like hope, something like joy, something like safety, something like when he’d spun his very first star, something like… home. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, forced himself to relax, to calm down, to let himself breathe.  
“I’m glad you didn’t know me… before. Or, rather, didn’t realize who I’d been, before.” He whispered, still looking wide eyed with disbelief at the world around him. “You didn’t, did you? I didn’t peg you for that good of an actor, otherwise.” He turned to Aziraphale, who was looking at him strangely, as if he were a piece of porcelain about to shatter on the floor.   
“Not personally no. I’d seen… Raphael, before, of course. Only in passing, really. Principality is only a rank below Arch, but there’s still a distance there, and Gabriel had always been my direct superior.”   
“And Raphael always kept to himself. Didn’t want to make trouble for anyone, not really. Didn’t want to be in the middle of this fight, but he had to be. Didn’t want to pick sides, but wasn’t given a choice. Bit of a recluse, I suppose. Happier painting the sky than socializing, than dealing with power and control and heaven’s host.” His voice was distant, searching past the centuries for half remembered thoughts and fragments.   
“To be honest, I hadn’t even known he’d fallen. They kept it rather hush hush, up here.” Aziraphale replied, and Crowley smiled that wry smile of his.   
“They would, wouldn’t they? After dear old Luci started it all, the favorite child, what would it have looked like if another of the holiest of the holy had fallen? Like a slip in the ranks, that’s what. Like maybe heaven wasn’t shored up as well as it ought to be. I hid away when I wasn’t healing anyway, easy enough to deflect until I was simply forgotten.” He was back in the present now, smiling up into Aziraphale’s eyes, taking the angel’s breath away with those molten irises.   
“I’m glad you didn’t know me. Glad we didn’t have a history to get in the way of things. Glad you didn’t have anything to compare me to, when we met. You didn’t know how far I’d fallen or how broken I was. Because you didn’t look at me with pitying eyes, or detesment, or fear. You looked and simply saw… me. As I was, who I was, what I was. Nothing more or less. And I think anything else at that moment would have broken me completely beyond repair.”   
“I would have loved you anyway, you silly serpent. Even if I’d known.” Aziraphale replied, pulling Crowley close, wrapping an arm around his waist as they walked onwards.   
“Maybe. But you would never have forgotten that rank, that distance it would have put between us. Would have taken a few thousand more years to get to where we are now. I’d have waited of course, would have driven me crazy, but I’d have waited.” Crowley grinned at Aziraphale’s soft laugh, the soft adoring look he shot his way.   
There were other angels about, of course. No one Crowley really recognized, most of whom he’d hung out with were down below now, and he’d never been much of a social butterfly in heaven anyways. Aziraphale had been stationed on earth so long he knew about as many angels as Crowley did, which was to say none, besides his ex-superiors.   
Still, as they wandered towards the center of heaven, Crowley could feel the other’s eyes on him. They sized him up disapprovingly, taking in his sauntering walk, his mostly dark wings, his snake slit eyes when they met his then looked away, as if burned. Afraid that demonic was like the flu, a bug you could catch from contact or proximity. Disapproving also of how Aziraphale held him close, of their contact, of their relationship. He’d thought he was over what others thought about the two of them, but being here left him off balance and unsure.  
Rather self-conscious now, Crowley drew his wings tighter against his back, his gait becoming stiff and long strided, looking down and avoiding eye contact. He was the first redeemed demon, he would not fuck this up, not if he could help others, the ones who deserved it, who wanted to change.   
Aziraphale, however, walked purposefully, head high in pride as he held his demon close, meeting everyone’s gaze unflinchingly, challengingly, daring them to say a single word against them. He’d cared so long about what heaven thought, now that they were here together, he couldn’t care less. He wouldn’t stand for it, wouldn’t stand for a single ill spoken word against his demon, a single muttered insult against his husband, not when he was better than most any of the others up here.   
“Rapha?” Crowley froze midstep at the hesitant female voice, one that sounded young, like a human teen. He knew that voice.  
Playing in the sunshine, they conjured trees and flowers, trying to outdo the other’s work, trying to make the biggest, brightest thing.   
Under the forest they found an injured sparrow, who hadn’t quite gotten ahold of its flight yet, he watched fascinated as she healed it, wondering if that’s how it must look when he did it.  
He remembered when the humans first started making homes, farming, taming animals, catching glimpses of her, too afraid to reach out. For her to see him like this now. But her essence was all over, and it brought him comfort to be near it, because it meant she was still at work.  
Throat dry, he turned slowly, afraid of what she’d say now, afraid of how she’d look at him, afraid of what he’d become in her eyes when she was still so perfect and he was so broken.   
“Airy.” He addressed her by her nick name, and she let out a half laugh, half squeal, charging forwards in a blaze of white wings, swooping him into a tight hug. He laughed, feeling her feathers tickle his cheek, feeling her wild, barely tamed power, her scent of ancient trees and hidden groves.   
“I’m sorry. I tried, when they threw you out, I tried, but they wouldn’t listen and I was afraid to push it too hard, I looked for you, I did, but I could never find you down there. Turns out this whole time you were running around right under our noses, you scurrilous snake!” She exclaimed, booping his nose, smile wide and playful, eyes a blazing ocean blue.   
“Heard about that, did you?” Crowley drawled, trying to repress an answering smile and failing terribly. She snorted.   
“Uh, I’ve heard about everything! Mostly rumors and stuff, but me and one of the earth observance clerks have a little thing going on. After the whole apocalypse thing I got down there and scrolled through it all. You’re a legend, man! If I’d known falling would be half as fun as you made it, maybe I woulda popped down with you!” She teased, taking a step back and circling him, fully looking him over. Aziraphale laughed as Crowley swatted her hands away from his wings.   
“What’s so funny to you, angel?” He snapped, fending off another caress of his feathers.   
“Usually you’re the one circling me as if you’re a hungry wolf and I’m a steak, I’ve never seen someone else do it to you. Rather entertaining, if you insist on knowing.” The female angel circled back around, and Aziraphale got a good look at her, now that she wasn’t moving.   
She had dark, ebony skin. Unlike most angels who still opted for robes or traditional garb, she was wearing white leggings and a short-sleeved blouse. Her deep blue hair was a wild mess of tight curls pulled back in a pony tail, brilliant white wings standing out against her dark skin, giving her even more of a glow than most angels had naturally. She was shorter than Aziraphale, appearing to be a young human, maybe 18, with the physique of someone quite athletic. She was as different an angel as any Aziraphale had ever met, and didn’t doubt for an instant that’s why she and Crowley hit it off. Her face lit up as she turned to Aziraphale.   
“Oh, oh, I’ve heard alllll about you as well! You really gave Gabriel what for, huh? They all got a demotion, all of them! Bout time too, those guys ran a strict ship, no room for any fun.” She pulled a face before continuing. “You’re his boyfriend, right? You’ve got embarrassing stories, I bet, lots of em. I could use some new ammo, my stuff is about 6000 years old and-“ She was cut off by Crowley clapping a hand over her mouth, though she continued her muffled protests.   
“Alright, that’s enough of that, Airy. Aziraphale, meet Ariel, protector of the natural world and healer of beasts. Also, pretty much my only actual friend from before. Glad to see you haven’t changed a bit.” He said dryly, releasing his grip on her. She sprang away a step, wings fluttering excitedly.   
“Oi, it’s archangel now, mind. I wasn’t too keen about that whole end of the world thing, by the by, good work on that one. Or glad you were complete idiots? Can’t quite tell if it was on purpose or not that you lost the baby.” Crowley rolled his eyes.   
“According to Aziraphale it was all part of the plan anyways, so we were just doing our due diligence.”   
“Right, incompetence it is then.” She replied cheerily. Crowley groaned.   
“Did I say I forgot how tiring you were? I swear, she talks a mile a minute and manages to say absolutely nothing.” He remarked to Aziraphale, who was watching all this with an all too bemused expression on his face.   
“Rather like someone else I know, if I recall correctly.” Aziraphale replied, all too innocently. Crowley threw up his hands.   
“If I’d known I was coming back up here just to get roasted again, I woulda just stayed home!” He was joking, but Ariel sobered up a bit, looking up at him seriously.   
“I meant it when I said I tried, y’know. What happened… it wasn’t fair. It made me so mad, Rapha, but I was too much of a coward to actually do anything about it.” She looked away, blue eyes clouding over.   
“I never held it against you, Airy. They wouldn’t have listened no matter what and you would have simply fallen with me. Someone needed to stick around, and I’m glad it was you. It all worked out for the best, anyways.” He replied, smiling softly at Aziraphale.   
“Suppose it did. You’re… you’re happy? You’ve been alright?” She asked tentatively, looking back up at him with misty eyes. Crowley met her gaze and nodded.   
“I… am. It’s been a ride but we’ve made it. You shoulda been there for the wedding, Airy, coulda been my maid of honor.” Crowley said, smile turning into a grin as he flashed his wedding ring at her, watching her eyes go wide and her mouth form an O before she tackled him in another hug.   
“you just can’t stop being amazing, can you, big bro?” She whispered, this time Crowley hugged her back, felt the tears falling from her face as she held onto him like she’d never let go.   
“I missed you too, Kit.” At that she gave a sob, squeezing him tighter. Kit, because she was just as wild and mischievous and clever and prone to mischief as a fox, and he was her older brother. He felt his own tears falling into her curly hair, he’d forgotten how much he’d missed her. “Glad to see you never grew up into one of those pompous twits some angels are.” She laughed through her tears at that, sound like a burbling river, finally releasing him and stepping back, swiping at her eyes.   
“Knew you’d be disappointed if I did. Can’t be all goody goody when your bro’s down below. Gotta keep the family reputation going somehow.” She teased back, linking her arm with his. Crowley could feel Aziraphale grinning, knew he was watching the whole exchange giddily, knew he was almost deliriously happy for Crowley, and Crowley felt his ears start to burn in response, refusing to meet the angel’s eyes.   
“You know dearest, I would have expected you to mention a little sister, and you’ve never once said a word about Ariel here.” Aziraphale commented, linking his arm on Crowley’s other side, making the demon feel rather like he was Dorothy in the wizard of oz on some wild goose chase of a mission. Accurate description, now that he thought of it.   
“Couldn’t. Didn’t want to risk getting her into trouble, guilt by association, especially with her reputation already for being… an outside the box thinker. Imagine a demon, the serpent of Eden, speaking highly of an angel. No, not when we were still being watched, not when we still had quotas to fill. Especially when I wasn’t sure-“ wasn’t sure if she’d fallen too, were the words that died on his lips.   
Because as terrible as it would have been for a demon to be speaking highly of an angel still in heaven, it would have been worse for a fallen angel to have her skills at being angelic lauded. No, not once in his time since the fall had he dared even whisper the name Ariel aloud, did he ever try and find her, since she was often commuting back and forth from heaven to earth, actively avoiding spots of activity for her when he could. He’d done his part to keep her safe, and keep her above.   
“Ah. I’m sorry, dear. I should have realized.” Aziraphale murmured, knowing exactly what Crowley was thinking from that darkened look on his face, that he only got when thinking about someone he loved in danger.   
“Well, suppose it just means I have some new stories to catch you up on, angel. You thought I was a problem child as a demon, just wait till you hear what we got away with as angels.” He replied with forced lightness.  
“We had run of the place. Mom was always too busy with Michael and Gabriel and Uriel. They were her favorites, back then, the leaders of the hosts of heaven, and all that. She’s chilled out recently, thanks mostly to you.” Ariel replied, shooting a pointed look at Crowley, who shrugged.  
“Don’t know why, not like She ever listened to me before.” He grumbled. “Only took us nearly dying, what, four times? For her to pay attention.”   
“Hmm, well, there was the apocalypse, then there was the face swap, then the holy water incident, then Gabriel showing up right after to kill you since his memory spell didn’t work, then the bookshop attack when you used your grace. So, five for you, four for me, I’d say.” Aziraphale listed helpfully, to the wide-eyed distress of Ariel.   
“Bit weird how the common denominator in all of those incidents is Gabriel, huh? Almost like he had it out for us or something. Can’t imagine why…” Crowley mused sarcastically, causing Aziraphale to huff and almost roll his eyes.   
“Fire and brimstone Rapha, you coulda mentioned that! The files drop off after the apocalypse, I didn’t know you’d nearly died since then, what the hell happened?!” Ariel swore, breaking link and grabbing onto Crowley’s arms, looking up at his face. He shrugged.   
“Was never our greatest fan, and he took that sentiment to new highs, well, lows. Nearly took out Ziri here, that’s why I took back my grace. Had to get some hell fire essence out of him.” He replied, resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder for a moment. Her eyes narrowed.   
“Those little weasels. I knew I shoulda been put on guard duty, but noooo, Ariel, your brother has some ideas we’re adapting, Ariel, redo all of heaven and make it more natural, She says, they can take of things down there, it’ll be fine. She didn’t even tell me!” She sputtered, fists clenched. Crowley just barked out a laugh.   
“Welcome to the club, Kit. I’ve given up expecting the truth from Her.” Aziraphale huffed again, nudging Crowley with his elbow.   
“We are here to try and patch things up, dearest. Perhaps blaspheming is not the best way to get you back in their good graces.” Crowley waved a hand dismissively.   
“To hell with their good graces, angel. She’s made it clear She doesn’t intend to fall me again, and they’re just gonna have to get used to me. If I didn’t keep quiet the first time, God knows I’m not about to stop speaking my mind now.” He replied, ruffling his wings.   
They walked on, Aziraphale and Ariel making small talk, Crowley listening vaguely, shooting in a detail or comment every so often. His eyes were mostly fixed on the surroundings, taking it all in, sorting through all the memories and emotions he had in no way been prepared for.  
He remembered being scolded by Michael for not taking his duties more seriously, ditching his sword play lessons in favor of painting. Being told his head was in the clouds, replying of course it was, look around, they were in heaven.   
He remembered Uriel coming to him after getting into a tussle with Gabriel over some bureaucratic political issue, her ankle sprained and knees scraped. Gabriel coming discreetly later when he was at work on some ferns, all bruises and black eye. It was clear he’d been bested, but Crowley hadn’t gloated, hadn’t smirked, had simply placed a hand on his arm and washed away the marks.   
He remembered laying in a grassy meadow, frowning as Lucifer picked a flower and started pulling its petals off, one by one, listing off his ideas, his doubts, his arguments he’d later refine into his speeches and challenges against Heaven.   
Adam really was quite like his father, when he thought about it. He had that goldenness around him, that charisma that made sure when he spoke, people listened, that natural and unquestionable leadership and power. But he’d been able to have his mind changed, to admit he’d been wrong. Luci had never had that much humility. He was all arrogance and show. He hadn’t really cared so much as he wanted to be known.  
Aziraphale was keeping a close eye on Crowley. He usually didn’t like being referred to as Raphael, but he seemed fine with Ariel calling him Rapha. He had relaxed, at least, he’d been so tensed up Aziraphale had been waiting for him to trip over his own feet, but Ariel had seemed to dissolve some of that. Now his gaze was miles away, but his wings were no longer practically pinned to his shoulders and his stride was softer.   
Ariel stopped, pointing at an archway filled with softly glowing light. “She’ll be in there, I think. Mom’ll have known you were coming. Aziraphale tapped Crowley’s shoulder, causing him to jump and whip his head towards the angel.   
“We’re here, dear.” Aziraphale said gently, giving Crowley a concerned, questioning look. The demon shook his head slightly, giving him a small, tired smile.   
“Sorry love. Lots of memories, lots… well, just lots. Bit overwhelming.”   
“You ready?” Crowley shook his head again.   
“To see Her, really Her and all that she is here, in heaven instead of your bookshop or my dreams? No, not nearly. But we’re already here and I’m not turning back now.” He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and plunged into the archway, Ariel and Aziraphale right behind him.


	2. New Friends, Old Enemies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We run into some familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing god and the other angels. Also, more fluff coming your way soon, I'm sure!

It looked like a pavilion. Ivy climbed up the marble pillars, flowers and bushes and ferns of all colors and sizes filled the space. It smelled sweet of summertime and heavy with pollen. And then there was Her.   
She stood with her back to them, stroking a flower, it’s petals swirling with color, breathing life into it. Here Her hair was swirling iridescent locks of brilliant violets and blues, galaxies swirling and mixing and reforming all in seconds. Her skin glowed silver, barely able to contain the pure power she exuded, veins of gold and platinum lining her body. And when she turned around, there would be those bottomless, fathomless eyes, as deep and unending as the universe itself.   
“Hey Mom!” Ariel chirped, skipping over to the deity and giving her a kiss on the cheek. God laughed, that bright, bell laugh, and turned to Ariel, kissing the top of her head in return.   
“Hello, Ariel. How are we today?” Her voice was warmth and honey and light, and Crowley stiffened at the sound of it. Aziraphale looked up at the demon, but he wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on some piece of the ground, as if it held any interest.   
“Oh, fine. Did just learn big bro almost died about three more times than I was aware of, but y’know, other than that, peachy.” She replied, half reproachfully, half questioningly.   
“I knew it would upset you, and everything was fine. Both of them are accomplished fighters. Had someone truly been on death’s door I would have said, but neither was.” Ariel still pouted, but seemed pacified as God turned her gaze to the pair before her.  
“Aziraphale. You’re looking well, dear. Congratulations, by the way.” She swept forwards, holding both his hands, leaving him blushing and stumbling for words. Unlike Crowley, he’d never seen God in her ethereal form before, and it left him slightly star struck. “I would have performed the ceremony, if you’d asked.” She finished, winking.   
“Yes, well, we weren’t sure yet how well Crowley would do with heaven related things. His light was so small yet.” Aziraphale stumbled out. She smiled kindly. “One time he was waiting outside a church for me, you know, and accidently got blessed by the priest. Nearly burst into flames on the spot. Had to pour a bucket of water over his head.” Aziraphale rambled.   
“Angel. Enough. Please.” Crowley finally interceded, loathe to bring attention to himself but needing to stop this conversation before he started well and truly blushing. He glared back at Ariel who was barely stifling her laughter. She stuck her tongue out at him and he made a face in reply, which only made her giggle harder.   
“And of course, Raphael. I’m glad to see you came. I wasn’t sure if you ever would.” He bit the inside of his cheek, still looking away, feeling her eyes on him. Seeing her in his mind was one thing, in human form, was one thing. But he hadn’t seen Her, really seen Her, since the Fall.  
“Why do you insist on calling me that? It’s not my name anymore. It’s not who am I. Not me.” He whispered, voice hoarse with old screams. In his mind, he’d lost that name the moment he’d lost the power to heal, to help anyone.  
“My child, you never once stopped being him.” She placed a hand on his cheek, and he finally looked up, getting caught in those bright, endless eyes. “You never once stopped being a protector. To the humans and earth and more. If there’s one thing Raphael is, it is that. I only wish you could see it in yourself, the way I can see it in you.” She replied gently, and he let out a long, ragged breath, closing his eyes. He let himself lean into her touch, let himself absorb the pureness of her warmth and love and joy at seeing him here, seeing him home. Let himself ever so slightly start to forgive.  
“Mother!” He spun at the breathless, scandalized voice, eyes narrowed and wings half raised.   
“Michael! How nice of you to join the party. Last time I saw you, you were dragging Aziraphale here off to heaven to get burned out of existence. And bringing holy water to hell, naughty naughty, sister dear.” Crowley said, voice light and teasing, but his eyes were sharp enough to cut diamond, and he was strung tight again, waiting to strike. Michael’s eyes glinted appraisingly as she took in his dark wings, Aziraphale at his left, Ariel coming to stand behind god at his right. “Heard from a little birdy you lot got demoted. Suppose my husband here outranks you now, doesn’t he? Fun little turn of events.” Michael took a step forwards, menacingly, and Crowley grinned, exposing his too sharp canines. He would relish a fight with Michael, and he would not bother to heal her afterwards.   
“You poison the ground you stand on, your words infect like a virus, just being in your presence is a disease, and he is a traitor for even thinking of choosing you, not to mention hopelessly stupid.” She hissed. Crowley’s eyes flashed.   
“Oh I think you’re in over your head, love. If you want to tango with me, you’ll have to do a bit better than that.” He could feel his unique blend of power building inside him, ready to lash out at any second.   
She had mistreated, abused and berated Aziraphale for millennia. She had been complicit in watching him burn. She had happily tried to destroy earth for her war. She was threatening his angel, and he would not have it. Not after all the close calls they’d had.   
“You tempted Gabriel. She hissed and Crowley threw up his hands.   
“Because it always has to be my fault, doesn’t it? Did it ever occur to you that Gabe wasn’t as perfect as you thought he was, that he made his own choices and he led to his own down fall?”   
“You manipulative lying baseless bastard. You made him fall. He was my brother, unsullied for 6000 years, till you waltz in and lead him astray.”   
“Oh, if only the faith you have in me as a demon matched the faith you had in me as an angel. You think I, what, planned this? You think I would try and douse myself in holy water rather than go near Aziraphale because I planned it, was in on this master scheme to fall Gabriel? You think I would let Ziri face him alone, completely useless myself, if I planned this? You think I wanted anyone, anyone else to FUCKING FALL?!” He shouted, raking both hands through his hair, yellow eyes dilated to slits.  
“Liar. That’s all you demons do, is lie and cheat and steal! He was doing the best he could and then you had to screw everything up with your hero play acting when we all know that you’ll never be anything but the worst of us. He was my brother and now he’s GONE BECAUSE OF YOU!” She screamed back, showing more emotion than he’d ever seen.   
“I was your brother too, once. You seem to forget that. Forget I was there, I walked those fields, I saw the aftermath more clearly than any of you because you did the fighting and I cleaned up your mess. You forget that I know what it’s like to fall, both as an angel and a demon, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Not even Gabe, not even after all he did to us.” Crowley replied, voice so heated it could singe wood. She glared at him, chin held high, refusing to back down or apologize. He sighed.  
“You can believe what you want Micah, since you’ll never believe me, but I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted to live in peace. Your little posse decided we couldn’t have that, and it led where it led. I am sorry for it. I know how close you were. I know how that loss hurts. But don’t… don’t put that on me. I have enough weight to carry around without adding extra that doesn’t belong. We just wanted to be together and be safe. That’s all we ever wanted.” As quick as his temper had flared it was gone, replaced with that stupid empathy he couldn’t seem to get rid of, even when it came to his enemies.   
The room was perfectly silent and all too suffocating. Without another word he brushed past Michael, exiting back through the archway. He spread wings and took off, circling till he found a small copse of aspens. He landed amongst them with a shaky breath, sliding down against one of the trunks, resting his head against its smooth bark. Ariel’s handiwork, of course. She’d really come a long way. He wished he’d been there to see it. He wished a lot of things had been different.   
Gabriel and Michael had just as much history, just as much closeness as he and Aziraphale did. It wasn’t the same kind of love, of course, more like a sibling dynamic duo, a professional work team. They were mission oriented, all results justify the means ruthlessness.   
He didn’t blame her, for her anger and her grief, didn’t begrudge it. He knew that feeling, that desperation, that ire and anger. He’d felt it when he’d lost Aziraphale, and it nearly consumed him. He just didn’t deserve the brunt of hers. If Gabe had just left the two of them alone like he’d asked, everything would’ve been just fine.   
He dropped his head into his hands, muffling his groan. What was he even doing here, what did he think would happen, what the hell was the point?   
“Here to kick me while I’m down? Go ahead, I won’t stop you. Everything always seems to be my fault anyways.” He muttered the last bit, tilting his head to look at Uriel’s cream spotted face. She was unreadable as ever, even her eyes gave nothing away.   
He sighed, and tilted his head back up, forgetting his aversion to the sky, his fear of what he’d see. It was all still there, of course. His constellations, his stars, the whorls of galaxies and looping comet trails. He still knew the name of every single one, remembered teaching them to his siblings. He remembered God’s gentle smile as she tried to guess what form his constellations were supposed to be. Even though she’d already known, she’d list more and more absurd animals, echidna, baleen whale, okapi, until he was lost in a fit of giggles. He’d tell her then, and she’d ruffle his hair, fill him with happiness and pride as she remarked how clever he’d been. All he’d ever wanted was to make them proud, to be seen among his brothers and sisters.   
But they’d been children then. There had been no doubts, no sides, no humanity to tear heaven apart. That had been when he’d still adoringly looked up to Luci, wanted to be just as bright and brilliant and clever as him. Wanted to follow him to the ends of the earth for another of his smiles. Well. That had worked out wonderfully, hadn’t it?   
“I’m sorry.” The words took a moment to sink in, to fully register, and Crowley blinked in confusion.  
“You… what?” He looked back up at her, face still stony, but something soft around the eyes now.   
“I said I’m sorry Raph, don’t make me say it again.” She huffed, folding her arms and leaning back against a tree, one foot kicked back against it. “Well? You going to say anything, or just sit there moping all day?” Crowley cracked a small smile despite himself.   
“Micah didn’t seem to appreciate my presence here. Seems to think I’m still a demon.” Uriel arched a brow.   
“Are you?” Her tone wasn’t judgmental, simply curious. He shrugged.   
“Well, I’m clearly no angel.”   
“I’m not so sure about that. You’re clearly no demon, either.” Crowley looked up at her appraisingly.   
“Since when are you one to parse words?” He asked. An almost smile flickered across her face.   
“Since Gabriel fell and you were redeemed. Gabriel lied to me. He said that Mother had ordered Aziraphale’s forgetting. Then he tried to cover it up when I confronted him about it not being true. I didn’t know Michael was using Hell, teamed up with them for information. I didn’t know the true reason they caused your fall until much later. I would not have faulted you for your actions then. They knew it was wrong. So they lied. And I believed them. I was fool to do so without question.” She replied evenly. Always straight to the point, Uriel, and for once he found that comforting.   
He looked up once again, and Uriel followed his gaze, her features softening in an indefinable way.   
“I saved them. They wanted to wipe it all away, start anew. Remove any trace of you and anyone who had fallen. But I still had hope. That some of them would find their way back to us. That they would see their stars and their work once again and know they were home. Good angels fell, Raph. You were one of those casualties. I was set on following what was written, it never crossed my mind to question who it was written by. You stopped a lot of bloodshed, you and that angel of yours. You’ll find it hard to believe, but I am proud of you, for standing your ground. For doing what’s right on your own terms. By me, at least, you are forgiven. But I am not the one who should be doing the forgiving.” She knelt down on the grass before Crowley, bowing her head.  
“Will you forgive me, Raphael?” He was speechless. Uriel was asking him for forgiveness. Uriel, who was never wrong, who was stony faced and sharp edged, prickly as a porcupine. She was the light of god, the forgiver of sins, the proudest, the pillar that held them all up, but she was asking him for his forgiveness, asking him to repent her sins for her. Which meant it was worth something to her, he was worth something to her.   
“Urie. I… yes. Yes, I think I do.” He said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. He was surprised to find he meant it. She was the only one to show remorse, to actually apologize, to try and explain herself. To admit that what she’d done was wrong.  
“I’m glad you came home, little brother.” Her voice wavered and before he knew it, he was wrapped in sun warmed arms, the smell of jasmine and sandalwood surrounding him. Warm as the sun and bright as the moon, that was Uriel, when she let herself show it. She pulled away quickly, not one for emotions, and helped pull him to his feet.   
“Suppose we should find Aziraphale before he gets himself into trouble. Ariel’ll drag him into who knows what.” He said, stretching his arms lazily. He could almost hear Uriel’s eye roll and it made him grin.   
“She clearly inherited a lot from you.” Was the dry reply.  
He heard the sound of wings and looked up, seeing Ariel and Aziraphale land just outside the aspens they were now emerging from.   
“There you are! Really, Crowley, you can’t just storm off like that, especially not here! What are you even thinking, after Michael said those things, I’m sure there’s plenty of others lurking around who would jump at the chance to get you alone.” Aziraphale fussed, examining Crowley for injury.   
“I’m fine, angel. I just needed some air.” He replied, taking Aziraphale’s hands in his and brushing the angel’s lips with his own, a butterfly’s kiss. It was enough to get the angel to stop worrying so much, to believe he was truly fine.   
“He’s right. Plenty of angels feel as Michael does. Resent Gabriel’s fall. In looking for someone to blame they look to you, led on by her. Mother will punish anyone who harms you, of course, but there are those who weren’t here… who don’t know entirely what that could entail.” Uriel said softly, drawing everyone’s eyes to her. Ariel’s wings fluffed up like a hawk defending its nest.   
“Is that a threat?” She asked, voice cold and acidic. Uriel looked evenly at her, dwarfing her in height. It was like watching a chihuahua square up against a pit bull.  
“No. It is a fact.”  
“I’m sure you were mighty glad to get him alone yourself. What were you planning on doing, before we showed up?” She hissed, hands on her hips.  
“Stand down, kit. It’s appreciated but unnecessary.” Crowley stepped away from Aziraphale, placing a calming hand on her shoulder.  
“Aziraphale…. Good to see you. I’d best get going, now that your husband and… kit have caught up with you.” She nodded at Crowley once, who returned it with a small wave, then she was gone in a flash of feathers.   
“Don’t call me Kit, I outrank you!” Ariel yelled at the sky, the already distant form of Uriel. Crowley suppressed a chuckle as she rounded on him.   
“What did she do? What did she say to you?” She demanded.   
“Nothing, honest, don’t get your feathers in a twist. We just talked. It was actually… quite pleasant.” She glared at him in disbelief. “She… she apologized. And she meant it, Kit.”   
“She did refer to me as your husband. She’s the only angel to do that, without throwing disdain on it anyway.” Crowley rounded on Aziraphale.   
“Who? Angel I swear-“   
“It’s not important, dear. It doesn’t matter what they think of it. It doesn’t matter to me.” Crowley caught his breath at that, such a simple statement, but unthinkable his angel would make it only a few years ago. The fact that he said it now meant everything.   
It made Aziraphale’s breath catch in his throat, the effect his words had on the demon. The full force of Crowley’s endless ocean of affection, his sweeping adoration, the softness of his love, like flower petals and faerie wings, like rose water and serenades, it unbalanced him still, all that focused on him. Dedicated to him. It made his heart race and cheeks color.   
“Wow, you two are really, really adorable, you know that?” Ariel broke the spell of their gaze, her smile blinding as she looked between the two of them.   
“Shut up, Kit.” Crowley tousled her hair, before wrapping an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders, kissing his cheek, then his lips, as the angel turned his head to Crowley’s. When they parted, he was satisfied to see it was Ariel who was blushing now.   
“Suppose we’d best say goodbye to dear old mum before heading back home. Would be rude to come for a visit then ditch.” Crowley said with a sigh.  
“So, you’re not… not staying?” There was a slight hitch to Ariel’s voice, and unspoken hope that was cracking. Crowley sighed again.   
“No, Airy. Not now, not yet, anyway, maybe not ever. But… well, you’re welcome to visit at the bookshop, if you ever get time off. And I’m sure we’ll be around. Seems like heaven just can’t get rid of me.”   
“Much to their delight, I’m sure.” Aziraphale added, earning a laugh from Crowley.   
They departed soon after, saying their goodbyes to Ariel, who wrapped each of them in a hug, stone faced Uriel, who gave them both a solid handshake and a curt goodbye. And God, who whispered something in Aziraphale’s ear that had him smiling brightly, before Crowley stepped up to her, for once meeting her eyes of his own accord. Something in him felt close to breaking, at the end of this visit, but he didn’t know what, or why.   
Maybe it was because he was back in heaven, after having been absent so long. Maybe it was because for the first time in thousands and thousands of years he felt like he had assembled a small family again, maybe it was because his angel was rubbing off on him, but he felt suddenly, foolishly sad to go. God smiled smally at him.   
“You are always welcome here, Raphael.” He shoved his hands in his pockets with a shrug.   
“Not really my scene, up here. Not really… not really home, anymore.” He said, thinking of dust motes dancing in sun spots, of old leather and cracking paper, of wine and tea and dusty wood. Heaven filled a part of him he hadn’t known was empty, but Home was the book shop and Aziraphale and millions of stupid, idiot, beautiful humans who needed no help from above or below to be capable of the greatest acts of honor and the most hideous cruelties.   
“I know. But I hope it can grow to be part of your neighborhood.” She replied, kissing him on the forehead, imparting all her love and holiness and hope with that single gesture. Then he took Aziraphale’s hand, light surrounding them in oblivion, and arrived home.


End file.
